Breaking The Chains (Satan's Knights Prospect Trilogy)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Breathless, drenched in sweat and completely drained, I fall back on the mattress. Seconds pass without touching her and it’s too much. I reach over and lay my hand over her skin as I try to catch my breath. When I finally have my body under control, I turn my head and notice my hand is on her belly. For the briefest second, I picture it swollen with my baby. It’s a beautiful vision and my throat tightens because of it.

  I know she isn’t on the pill; we had that discussion. It’s why I stopped off at the store to buy condoms. I knew the two in my pocket were never going to cut it and yet we didn’t use a single one. Not all the times we fucked last night, nor the two times we did it this morning and I only pulled out once.

  A smile ticks the corners of my lips and I give her belly a rub.

  “What are you smiling about?” she asks, eyeing me curiously. Charlotte’s very perceptive, she knows what we did, and she didn’t object once. There’s no need for me to bring it up. We both obviously wouldn’t mind if she got pregnant. Hell, I can’t think of anything I want more.

  “Nothing,” I reply, pressing my lips to her temple. “Are you hungry? I can make you breakfast before I take you back to your mom's.”

  “I don’t want to dampen the mood, but don’t you think we should talk before we do that?” she questions, biting the inside of her cheek as she peers at me through those thick lashes of hers. Actually, I’m not bothered by the suggestion. I’ve been wanting to talk to her since Wolf paid me that visit at the bowling alley.

  “Yeah,” I reply, threading my fingers through her hair. “There’s some t-shirts in the top drawer. If we’re going to talk, you’re going to have to put those away so I can concentrate.” I tease, tipping my chin to her tits. “I’ll go make us some coffee.”

  She slaps a hand to my chest and plants a smacking kiss to my cheek before I roll out of bed. Pulling open one of my other drawers, I grab a pair of basketball shorts and pull them up my legs. The waistband slaps against my abs and Charlotte lets out a low whistle. Chuckling, I leave her in the bedroom and make my way into the tiny kitchen.

  She joins me, wearing one of my shirts and lifts herself onto my counter. Her long legs swing off the edge, as she takes the cup from my hands and I struggle to keep my focus.

  “I haven’t been totally honest with you,” she starts, setting the mug on the counter beside her. That gets my attention away from her legs real quick.

  “I told you my dad was incarcerated and that he died in prison, but I didn’t tell you the whole story and that’s partly because I didn’t know it.”

  She did tell me that and throughout the course of time we know one another, she’s let bits and pieces slip, like how he chose her sister over her. I don’t know what the means. Hell, she doesn’t even talk about her sister and with all that we had going on, there was never time to ask.

  “What’s the other reason?”

  “I was confused. When I first met you, there was something about you that I subconsciously associated with my father. It wasn’t just the fact you were both incarcerated, it was something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on. I just knew I couldn’t turn away from you and Connor. I pushed myself into your life, into your son’s life and the whole time, I’ve been wondering if it’s for the wrong reasons.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Do you remember the day I came to you, the day I asked you about the snowflakes on your shoulder?”

  “Of course I remember that day, I remember every day. Every second.”

  “I needed you to prove there was a parallel between you and my dad. Bishop, my dad didn’t rob a house. My sister was sick, really sick. When my parents found out, it was too late for medicine to treat her condition, the only thing that would save her would be a heart transplant. They put her on the list immediately and they had a match for her, right there in the same hospital. A man was brain dead and his family was getting ready to turn off the machines. They decided to donate his organs but before any of that could happen, the hospital billing department took my sister’s name off the list because my parent’s healthcare plan didn’t cover transplants. My mother went crazy. I wasn’t there, I was too young, but if you hear my aunt tell the story, she said it was like a deleted scene from the movie Terms of Endearment. I didn’t know what that meant until about five years ago when I finally watched the movie.”

  She pauses to take a breath and I step closer to her, sensing this story is going nowhere good, and I close my hand over her knee.

  “Anyway, my mother tried to fight it. She told them they’d pay out of pocket, but they had no collateral. The house my mother lives in has two mortgages still to this day. Without half the money of the surgery down, they would not put Bethany’s name back on that list.”

  “I’m sorry baby.”

  She shakes her head.

  “My father couldn’t handle that. His daughter was dying and there was nothing he could do because he wasn’t rich. He was just a working-class guy who got up every morning, took his daughters to school and then went to work. He didn’t have a 401k or a pension to borrow from and my mom, she was just a housewife. They didn’t have a life insurance policy to cash in, they had nothing but love and that wasn’t enough. My father had a buddy down at the union hall. He was some kind of street guy. I don’t know what that means, that’s what my mother called him. She didn’t even know his name, but she knew he was the man who gave my father the gun.”

  My hand goes still on her knee as her eyes meet mine. It all starts to click.

  Her comparing me to her father.

  Her finding the gun and throwing me out.

  It all makes sense.

  “My father held the surgeon at gunpoint and demanded he put that heart in my sister’s body. It was all over the news. They put the hospital on lockdown and called it a hostage situation. My dad didn’t pull the trigger and my sister didn’t get the heart. He was arrested and Bethany died six days later. They wouldn’t let him out for her funeral, my mother had to bury their daughter by herself. When he was sentenced people rallied outside the courthouse and petitioned, but it didn’t change anything.”

  “Charlotte,” I murmur hoarsely. Moving to stand between her legs, I lift my hands to her cheeks and cradle her face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I should be crying,” she whispers. “But I can’t. I didn’t cry the day my dad died either. It’s the strangest thing because I cry when I’m not thinking or talking it. I’ll cry over missed visits, and not being able to go to a stupid father-daughter dance, but I don’t cry because he’s dead. I cry because since it happened, I always thought he chose her over me. It’s selfish and I’m ashamed of it. More so now, after talking to my mom and learning my father did what he did because he blamed himself. The condition my sister had was hereditary. No one knew until she was diagnosed. My mom said we were all tested, and my dad was a carrier.”

  Licking my lips, I force a swallow.

  “What about you?”

  “I don’t have the gene and you have to have it to pass it on. At least that’s what my mom says. I literally just found out about that part. I’m going to go to a doctor and find out more just to be safe…Bishop, the reason I’m telling you all this is because I believed I was helping you and Connor for the wrong reasons. I told myself I was trying to give Connor back his dad because no one ever gave me back mine, but that isn’t entirely true.”

  “Charlotte, you don’t have to explain anything—”

  “Yes, I do. If we’re going to be a couple—”

  “There’s no if.”

  “Please, let me finish. I don’t want this relationship to be built on dishonesty. We have a lot of things already riding against us, we need to take control of what we can to make this work.”

  “Fine,” I rasp. “Say what you have to say.”

  “Yes, I threw myself into this case because of the initial similarities, but every day I grew more and more attached to you and to Connor, not the situation
we were dealt. I believe with my whole heart you deserve to be his dad and I know you won’t jeopardize the love you have for him intentionally. I was wrong for not letting you explain yourself after I found the gun, but I wasn’t just trying to protect Connor. I was trying to protect myself. I can’t lose another person I love. Not to death and not jail.”

  Love.

  You don’t realize how badly you need to hear those words until you do.

  You can assume by their actions that a person loves you, but there ain’t nothing like hearing come from their lips.

  “Baby, look at me,” I say, crouching down an inch to make us eye level. “You’re stuck with me. A man like me doesn’t get a lot of second chances, but when he does, he holds tight with both fists. I didn’t pull the trigger on Pete because I love you and Connor. I don’t ever want to be the guy sitting across a table not able to touch you again or the man who worries if his son knows how much he loves him. There’s a lot of heroes to my story, but I want to be the only hero in yours and Connor’s.”

  I pause, swiping my thumb over her lip before she can tug it between her teeth.

  “I’ll say it again, I love you and I choose you.”

  She pulls my finger away from her mouth and leans into me, touching her lips to mine. It’s a kiss unlike any other because it solidifies our future and it ends too soon.

  “What about the club?” she questions, tearing her mouth away from mine. “I don’t want to change you because I’m scared of losing you. I know you feel—”

  “Shh,” I say, silencing her with another peck of my lips. Pulling back slightly, I take her face and stare into her eyes. It’s my turn to lay the cards on the table. “Wolf and Blackie paid me a visit at the bowling alley. They knew everything, and I misjudged Wolf. Come to think of it, I misjudged all of them. No one wants anything from me…not even Parrish, not really. Things haven’t been easy for the Satan’s Knights since Jack stepped down and Wolf took his place. They don’t want to be an outlaw motorcycle club anymore. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I know how that works or that it’s possible, but according to Wolf and Blackie the club is going legit. I’m going to wait until I’m finished with parole and see what happens. If they succeed in changing the direction of the club, then I’ll consider putting the vest back on, but until then I’m just Gabriel Bishop.”

  “I love Gabriel Bishop,” she whispers, a soft smile playing on her lips.

  “Yeah? That’s a good thing because he’s fucking head over heels for you. Now, what do you say we get the fuck out of here and go get our boy?”

  -Epilogue-

  Charlotte

  Three months later

  Hearing my car pull into the driveway, I hurry out the door to find Bishop taking the cake box out of the passenger seat. Hurrying down the front steps, I greet him with a big smile.

  “Thank God, we can’t sing happy birthday without a cake,” I tease. He kicks the door closed and lifts his head, staring at me over the big white box containing Connor’s birthday cake. The smile slips from my lips as I stare into his blue eyes recognizing the sadness reflected in them.

  “What’s wrong?” I question.

  “Blackie called me while I was at the bakery,” he says, hoarsely.

  Instantly my heart takes a nosedive as dread churns in the pit of my gut and not for the reasons you think.

  All the ranking members of the club, and Blackie accepted Bishop’s decision to hold off on prospecting. The only one who had a problem with it was Jack and that was expected. He didn’t like it because as crazy as he is, he’s also very smart and he knew that letting Bishop off the hook was the first sign of change for his beloved club. Soon after that, he learned of Wolf’s plan for the club and he blew a gasket. The club was divided and for a while, it looked like there was nothing anyone could do to bridge it together.

  Then tragedy struck for Wolf and his family when his youngest son was in a horrific car crash. It happened not even a month after he became a father. Frankie suffered multiple injuries, including severe brain damage. He was put on life support but there has been no brain activity. Last week, the doctor’s told Wolf it was time to consider turning off the life support, but his ex-wife wasn’t having it. She didn’t care her son was only being kept alive by machines, she was still clinging to faith, praying for a miracle she’d never get.

  In the face of tragedy, the Satan’s Knight came together and like Wolf stood by Parrish’s side when his young son died, the former president of the club hasn’t left his dearest friend’s side. Morning, noon and night, Jack is at the hospital. It’s no surprise, really. Bishop and I are learning that it doesn’t matter if you know the Knights your whole life or merely minutes. If you’re lucky enough to have any of them consider you one of their own, you become part of an unconventional family and like any other family, there are disagreements. People fight and they say ugly things, but they never stop caring.

  They never stop loving.

  And when something happens like this, that bond strengthens, and it lifts those who are hurting most.

  “They’re signing the papers tomorrow,” Bishop reveals. “They’re going to turn the machine’s off.” He takes a deep breath and turns his attention to the house. “I just can’t imagine what he’s going through.”

  Neither can I.

  Without even realizing it, I lift my hand to my flat stomach, to where our child grows safely and follow Bishop’s lead, looking at the house where our other child is, waiting to blow out the candles on his birthday cake.

  Two days ago, Bishop was granted custody of Connor, ending my temporary order of guardianship. Yesterday, Schwartz filed the paperwork for me to adopt him. The whole process took a lot quicker than we imagined it would and we have Schwartz to thank for that. The man may be a criminal attorney, but he has a lot of pull and what he can’t get done, his father can by simply making a phone call.

  Connor doesn’t know about the adoption papers yet, nor does he know he’s going to become a big brother. He’s still healing and building a relationship with his dad. We don’t want to overshadow his triumphs with the news of a new baby just yet. Siblings are a gift from God, but sometimes it’s hard sharing the spotlight with another. It doesn’t matter how much love you have for your children; they’ll always wonder if mom and dad have a favorite. So, for now, it’s about Connor. It’s about getting him to a place where he is confident in the love, we have for him and easing him into a new role. I have no doubt he’s going to be a great big brother.

  “Are you two coming in or was the plan to leave me with the bikers and the overbearing mother?” Schwartz asks, from the door.

  I didn’t even realize he was standing there until he spoke.

  “We’ll be there in a minute,” I call.

  “Hurry, will you, John already had to hide the knives from your cousin.”

  Did I mention, we still don’t know what really transpired between Gabby and Schwartz? The only thing we know for certain is she hates him. But have no fear, Schwartz isn’t all that bothered by her. When the bill came to the office asking if he wanted to renew his membership to the Playboy club, he had accounting write a check, securing his status for two years.

  “Hey,” I call, touching my hand to Bishop’s shoulder. “I’ll ask my mom to stay over tonight, that way she can take Connor to school and I’ll go with you to the hospital tomorrow. You should be there.”

  Pulling in a deep breath, he nods.

  “Thank you.”

  In lieu of words, I press my lips to his.

  A promise is a promise.

  And I promised to be at his side whenever life decided to knock him down.

  “Come on,” he murmurs, balancing the cake in one hand to take my hand with the other. “I waited seven years to watch my boy blow out the candles on his cake.”

  Hand in hand we walk into the house we rented together after my landlady kicked me out for disturbing the peace and make our way to the dining room where C
onnor is seated at the head of the table, surrounded by the people who swore to protect him.

  All dressed in leather, with a patch of the infamous embroidered knuckles centered on their backs, they are the keepers of the children.

  The people who pick up their phones no matter the hour.

  The people who ride, not for the sake of the patch but for the sake of the cause.

  They are the men and women who believe no child should live in fear.

  They are the Bikers Against Child Abuse and they are the true heroes of this story.

  THE END

  -Prologue-

  Lydia

  “Shit,” I hiss as the glass tumbles out of my hand. It crashes to the floor and instantly shatters into a million tiny pieces. It’s another fine mess I’ll have to clean before I go home and more time on the clock. Blowing out an exasperated sigh, I mutter a curse and drop to my knees, carefully avoiding the shards of glass. I don’t mind work—not normally. It’s just that I’m dead on my feet. I need sleep and a bubble bath. Maybe some chocolate too.

  Just a bite.

  When I first took the job at Big Nose Kate’s I thought it would be a piece of cake. Okay, so I wasn’t actually a licensed bartender, big deal. I made a mean margarita and I could pop the top off a long neck with the bottom of a lighter. I was totally qualified for the job.

  Or so I thought.

  I didn’t realize I would be working for the Satan’s Knights motorcycle club. I mean, an Italian woman by the name of Maria Bianci interviewed me and there wasn’t a stitch of leather to be found on that woman. She was all class. Then I met her son-in-law, the owner of the bar, Riggs—or Tiger, depending on his mood. He was most definitely a biker. He had the vest, the rank, and the gunshot wounds to prove it. As intimidating as my new boss was, he was also a real ball buster, who lived to crack jokes and impregnate his girl. He didn’t care that I wasn’t licensed, and I soon learned the bar was more of a front for their clubhouse. It was open to the public, but I mostly served the club and they drank the hard stuff. As long as I kept their glasses full, I was golden.